


Noctis: Try To Get Over Yourself

by VolxdoSioda



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Homestuck
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, the thought of Noctsprite would not leave me alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 16:57:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20781977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: Noctis and Noctsprite talk.





	Noctis: Try To Get Over Yourself

Noctis finds himself (themself?) tracking slow, lazy circles around the perimeter of the ruins. He doesn't stop circling even as Noctis approaches, or really show any sign of realizing his younger self is even there. But Noctis would eat his father's crown if Noctsprite _didn't _know he was there.

"Did as you asked," Noctis calls, barely raising his voice above a conversational tone. "The gate's been opened, and I rigged it so it can't close when the countdown hits. What now?"

Two more circles happen where Noctis watches the massive black bat wings carry his sprite around, the long whip-like ghost tail almost making a complete circle as he moves, before Noctsprite finally breaks the circle to swoop down. He doesn't even stir the dust at Noctis' feet when he moves.

"Now, you go take a nap, and I stand guard."

"Weren't you just telling me to stop being lazy a short time ago?" He can still remember it too; in sharp tones that would have put his father and Gladio to shame, Noctsprite had thoroughly chewed him up and spit him the fuck back out. The lecture had put him on the verge of tears, and left him feeling deeply ashamed of himself - but worse it had left him with the knowledge that he'd disappointed _himself. _

Which was a pretty fucking big deal, considering the failed game session Noctsprite had arrived from was the only reason Noctis was getting any help at all about this. And that failed session had been caused by Noctis' own lax attitude about... well everything, in the beginning.

Right up until he'd lost two of his best friends to the Session's madness. 

Noctsprite makes a flicking gesture with a wing. "This isn't laziness. In about four hours time our Denizen is going to wake the fuck up, and Ignis will finally be back online. We can talk to him, and stop him from listening to Shiva's bullshit, and we can talk to Gladio and stop him from listening to Titan's bullshit, and we can talk to Prompto and tell him not to listen to Ardyn, and trust me when I say wrangling all three of those is going to be worse than dealing with our Denizen. The Denizen you just have to kill. But those three are determined to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, and that's a fight that always drags out."

"And you're sure I can't just--"

"Paradoxes."

"Fuck."

"Indeed."

Noctis runs a hand over his face. He's still feeling tired, worn out on a level he wasn't expecting, and the sight of his father's bloodied crown nestled in Noctsprite's black curls isn't really helping. Or the jacket that belonged to a certain Shield slung over the sprite's shoulders, or the necklace from an adviser Noctis should thank more, or even the wristband that's done in a similar style to another young man that Noctis wishes wouldn't be so reckless. People that, according to this Noct at least, never made it out of the Session. Hell, two of them never even got the chance to _start. _Ignis was left waiting for Gladio, and because Noctis dragged his feet and refused to find his copies in time, Gladio wound up being taken out before he could do more than start to help Ignis.

He wonders what those versions of his friends would say to him now. Probably that they'd hate him and wish he'd been the one who was dead instead.

"They wouldn't hate you," Noctisprite says suddenly, and Noctis curses out loud. Noctsprite just lifts an eyebrow in a disturbing mimicry of Ignis copying his own uncle, and says, "Don't think stupid shit if you don't want me to call you on it."

"How did you even know that was what I was thinking about?" Noctis demands, thrown oddly off-kilter. Noctsprite is some kind of weird, terrifying force Noctis has no hope of matching anytime soon. The added weight of time travel only makes it worse. 

"Because I've got eyes. You looked at my crown, my shirt, my pendant and my wristband, and then your shoulders dropped and your mouth did that thing we do when we're thinking about dark shit. I'm not a mind reader, you're just shit at hiding your fucking thoughts."

"Yeah well, the eternal reminder of my _fucking failures as a person _staring me in the face is a little hard to swallow."

"Then either swallow it down or choke on it. I don't give a damn which. But get over it. Feeling shitty by proxy isn't going to fix this. Only thing that's going to fix it is being ten steps ahead of the curve, which is why I'm here to begin with. So, quite feeling sad over shit that isn't even in your future. Despite what you think, emotional self-flagellation is only fun if we're both into it, and I'm sure as fuck not, and I doubt you are either."

"You're not over it."

"No, but that's on me. My shit to sort. You need to keep your eyes forward and deal with the Denizen and our trinity of idiots, so the planet and the Citadel doesn't end up getting wiped out because our friends made deals with devils."

"Gods," Noctis mumbles.

Noctsprites smile is razor sharp. "I know what I said," he replies softly. "And they're no Gods. They're the previous Session's winners, and they've gotten a little big for their boots. It's time someone reminded them of what it means to be _mortal._"

"So the nap?"

"You're gonna need all the energy you can get. And don't give me that 'I can just chug a Redbull', those shitty energy drinks are gonna wind up killing you before the Denizen even has a chance, at the rate you're going. Get some sleep. Go dream. Maybe today will be the day you finally wake up."

"Eh?" Noctis pinches himself. "I... am awake?"

Noctsprite's smile holds a mysterious edge. "Sure kid. Tell me that when you finally _do _wake up. Maybe then we'll finally get to sit down and psychoanalyze the daddy issues."

"Huh?"

"Just... go to sleep."

Noctsprite takes off before Noctis can reply to that, or demand further answers, and this time he glides off towards the distant hills and oceans of the Land, leaving Noctis standing there, wondering what the hell Noctsprite meant by all that.

Well. Only one way to find out he supposes.

He unwraps his sweatshirt from around his waist, using it at a makeshift pillow as he lays down and starts counting clouds. Maybe it's the sheer stress, or maybe it's the lack of sleep catching up to him, but he's down for the count within seconds.

And in his dreams, there's a shift. A change, one that wouldn't have happened otherwise.

Noctis wakes up.

"Ah. So that's what he meant."

Scrawled across the room's four walls, done starting in a childish hand, and then slowly maturing into something more elegant, the word 'REGIS' blankets him. His father's name, staring him in the face from every angle. 

Outside, a distant star, and an already-awake Player. Prompto probably doesn't even realize that Noctis is awake, or he'd probably be kicking the door in, eager to start things. Especially given he's probably got all his future memories in his head now. Noctis wonders if Ignis has gotten him built up to the second gate yet. He also wonders if Gladio himself has found his copies of the game yet, if Ignis is in the Session proper.

Questions for another time, another _morning. _For now though, he sits in the mimicry of his apartment, surrounded by the name of his father, and watches the clouds of Prospit roll past.


End file.
